Partners
by HardfacedQueenofMisadventure
Summary: Neo introduces Trinity to a new pastime. FuturisticDreams, this one's for you.


**Well, this was a long time coming, I have to say, but thanks to the video to Thinking Out Loud by Ed Sheeran, I finally got it done. It's a little different to my usual stuff, but I rather like it, and I hope you all do too.**

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><p>When they're bored or restless beneath the crushing weight of what's to come, they won't spar anymore. Though Trinity puts on her winsome smile, bats her eyelashes and adopts that pose that means she's <em>not<em> going to back down until she gets what she wants, Neo refuses. _You do not truly know someone until you fight them, _she tells him, eyes sparkling, practically bouncing up and down on the spot with her fierce need to dispel some energy.

_Is that so? _He counters, taking one of her clenched fists in his hand and tenderly kissing the knuckles. This both amuses and infuriates her; she knows he's being sweet, and she loves that about him, but he's also refusing to give into her. But no matter what she says, or tries to ply him with, every time, he refuses. Partly it's because he can't resist denying her, he loves to see the look of disappointed determination on her face, the lowering of eyes, the merest hint of a pout if she's in a playful mood. He likes having this control, likes to be able to tell her _no_ and mean it, hold his ground against a woman so adept at winding him around her little finger.

And he wishes he could claim that that's his only reason.

It isn't.

She doesn't talk about it, and it probably doesn't bother her anywhere near as much as it does him, but he still remembers that one fateful afternoon in the dojo, a kick that missed its mark. He remembers her sprawled across the matting, one hand cradling her jaw, blood on her lips, eyes hazy with shock and pain and a little anger, he remembers how he ran to her side, babbling apologies before she could even attempt to stand up.

Twenty minutes and an ice-pack later, she'd made him pay for it. Dearly. Then they were square, water under the bridge, both sporting equally painful bruises, even laughing a little about it. The incident is never mentioned now, but he can't bring himself to put them in that situation again, won't risk hurting her.

So he comes up with an alternative activity for them. Her initial response does not surprise him; skepticism bordering on outright refusal. But he too knows how to get his own way, how to coax an agreement out of his lover, and she finds herself standing, albeit with more than a few shades of reluctance, with one hand in his, the other around his waist.

They dance. For someone who seemed ready to bolt at the mere suggestion of it, she's remarkably good. They have no music, but that doesn't matter. Sometimes he'll sing, verses of half-remembered songs from his time in the Matrix, or he'll hum, and sometimes they'll just have the pure, unbroken silence to accompany their steps. Either way suits them just fine.

It becomes a regular activity for them after a while, and Trinity comes to crave the feel of his arms around her, the smooth gliding harmony of their bodies moving in perfect tandem, more intimate than anything she's ever known. He'll bury his face in her neck, swift and elegant movements unfaltering, and kiss her, and tell her how much he loves her. Sometimes the dancing will lead to something infinitely more pleasurable, but mostly she's content to just move with him, to relax into a silent, shared rhythm.

_I never would've guessed that you were a dancer, _she murmurs once, not really thinking about it, just voicing her thoughts. _I could've put so many different labels on you before you were unplugged, but _dancer_ was not one of them. _He chuckles then, twirling her in a slow circle in front of him.

_You're not so bad at this yourself, _he replies, spinning her closer until her head is against his chest.

_Naturally, _she says daringly, and arches up to capture his mouth with hers. He stops her in her tracks, however, and dips her sharply, deftly, leaning in to complete the kiss himself. Held tightly in his strong arms, with the blood slowly rushing to her head and making her dizzy in the best possible way, Trinity can't think of anything else she'd rather do.

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><p><strong>Well, I hope you all enjoyed my first attempt at prompted writing. I'm happy to take on more requests, though if this is anything to go on, I may be some time in fulfilling them. Anyway, if you enjoyed, or otherwise, please leave a review. <strong>

**(Fun fact: the mind behind this request, the one and only FuturisticDreams tells me that Keanu Reeves actually enjoys dancing in real life. I certainly wouldn't mind being his dance partner, not that I can actually dance… ) **


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